Chapter 26: Shadows of the Past

The morning sun struggled to pierce the heavy clouds that hung over the camp, casting a bleak light across the sea of tents and soldiers. Eldric's mind was still reeling from the dream—or perhaps it was a vision. He could not shake the image of the shadowed figure or the ominous warning it had delivered.

The gods would not be satisfied with the Arbiter's fall. They would send more, and if Eldric was to stand a chance, he needed to understand what he was up against.

Karis approached, her expression dark and determined. "The scouts have returned. No signs of immediate pursuit, but that won't last long. We need to move quickly."

Eldric nodded, running a hand over his face. He had barely slept, and the weight of command was pressing down on him more heavily than ever. "We need information. There has to be something—someone—who knows more about the gods and their plans."

Seraphine stepped forward, her eyes sharp and calculating. "There is… one place," she said cautiously. "But you won't like it."

Eldric raised an eyebrow. "At this point, I'll consider anything."

"The Archives of Ash," Seraphine replied. "An ancient library hidden deep within the Ashen Wastes. It was said to contain knowledge from before the gods took power—secrets they wanted buried."

Karis's eyes narrowed. "You mean the forbidden tomes? I thought those were just legends."

Seraphine shook her head. "They're real. The problem is getting there. The Ashen Wastes are a death trap. Only a handful have ever returned."

Eldric's jaw tightened. The risk was immense, but if the Archives held even a fragment of truth about the gods, it was a risk worth taking. "Then we'll go," he declared. "Gather what supplies we need. We leave at dawn."

---

The Ashen Wastes

By nightfall, the rebellion's camp was a hive of activity. Orders were shouted, supplies gathered, and scouts dispatched to ensure the path ahead was clear. Eldric stood at the edge of the camp, gazing into the darkness where the Ashen Wastes lay. The landscape beyond was a twisted expanse of blackened earth and jagged rocks, a graveyard of ancient battles where even the wind seemed to carry whispers of the past.

Karis joined him, her eyes following his gaze. "You really think this place will have the answers we need?"

"I don't know," Eldric admitted, his voice low. "But if the gods wanted it hidden, then there must be something worth finding."

Karis chuckled darkly. "You're either brave or insane."

"Both, probably," Eldric replied, a faint smile playing at his lips. For a moment, the tension eased, but then Seraphine appeared, her expression grim.

"The scouts reported movement to the east," she announced. "Divine energy. It seems the gods have already noticed the Arbiter's fall."

Eldric's eyes narrowed. "How many?"

"Too many to fight head-on," Seraphine said. "If we don't move soon, they'll catch us."

"Then we move now," Eldric ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Ready the men. We march for the Ashen Wastes."

---

Into the Darkness

The journey into the Ashen Wastes was grueling. The landscape was a scarred wasteland, twisted and broken by battles fought long before even the oldest of their number had been born. Ash hung in the air, swirling around them with every step, and the sky remained an iron gray, denying even the sun's light.

Days blurred together as they pressed forward, their numbers dwindling under the harsh conditions and the ever-present threat of divine scouts. Eldric pushed himself at the front of the column, refusing to let his weariness show. They had come too far to turn back now.

As they ventured deeper, the ground beneath their feet became unstable, cracking open into deep chasms that seemed to breathe with an ancient, malevolent force. More than once, soldiers were lost to the darkness below, their screams cut short by the unfeeling abyss.

Eldric gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to look back. Every step was a reminder of the cost of defying the gods. But if he faltered, if he allowed doubt to seep into his heart, all would be lost.

"We're close," Seraphine said, her voice hoarse from the ash-laden air. "If the maps are right, the entrance to the Archives should be just beyond the next ridge."

Karis grunted. "Let's hope it's not another dead end. I'm getting tired of walking through cursed dust."

Eldric's eyes narrowed. "We press on."

And so they did, dragging themselves up the jagged ridge with scraped hands and aching limbs, until finally, they saw it—the entrance to the Archives of Ash. A massive stone door, half-buried in rubble and etched with ancient runes that pulsed with faint light. The sight of it sent a ripple of unease through the ranks.

Eldric approached cautiously, running his fingers over the carvings. The symbols were unfamiliar, yet something about them stirred a memory, a flicker of recognition.

Seraphine studied the runes, her eyes narrowing. "These are wards—barriers against divine sight. The gods can't see what's inside."

Eldric's eyes darkened. "Then this is it. Whatever the gods wanted to hide, it's in there."

He pressed against the door, straining until, with a groan, it began to shift, opening into darkness. The air that flowed out was cold, biting, and heavy with the scent of dust and something older—something that had waited centuries to be uncovered.

---

The Forbidden Knowledge

Inside, the Archives stretched on for what seemed like miles, rows upon rows of shelves lined with tomes bound in cracked leather and scrolls that crumbled at the edges. The walls were carved with murals depicting battles against gods, cities consumed by divine fire, and men who had dared to challenge the heavens.

Karis let out a low whistle. "Looks like the gods have been hiding more than a few secrets."

Seraphine moved quickly, her hands gliding over the spines of books until she pulled one free—a thick volume covered in runes similar to those at the entrance. "This… this could tell us how to fight them," she breathed.

Eldric took the tome, flipping through pages filled with intricate diagrams of spells and weapons forged to slay the divine. His heart pounded as the pieces began to fall into place. The gods' power was not unassailable—there were weapons, magic, entire systems of combat designed to counter them.

As he scanned the pages, a single word stood out, etched in blood-red ink: "Godslayer."

"It's real," Eldric murmured. "The Godslayer—the weapon that can kill even the divine."

Karis's eyes widened. "Then we have a chance."

But Seraphine's face was pale, her eyes fixed on a passage further down the page. "There's a cost," she whispered. "To forge a Godslayer, it requires… a sacrifice. A soul."

Eldric's hands tightened around the tome, his expression hardening. "Then we'll find another way."

But even as he spoke, a chill ran down his spine. The gods would not hesitate to strike, and time was slipping away. If they were to survive, they would need the Godslayer—and the price it demanded.